


Fantasy

by Eryn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Gift Exchange, Historical, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 11:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eryn/pseuds/Eryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Fantasy is not something I willfully indulge in, John.” <br/>“Then don’t think of it as fantasy.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> written for the [Johnlock Challenges](http://johnlockchallenges.tumblr.com/) Grab Bag Exchange over at tumblr.  
> The prompt came from shhhsekkrit, who asked for “Fantasy is not something I willfully indulge in, John.” with any rating.
> 
> Many thanks go to Kryptaria for taking the time to read this over and encourage me :)

“Fantasy is not something I willfully indulge in, John,” Sherlock said and John could feel himself bristling despite himself.

“Then don’t think of it as fantasy,” he returned coolly, eyes fixed on Sherlock sitting in the armchair across from him.

“What else should I think of when you ask me to dress up as a knight in shining armour!” Sherlock explained and John couldn’t help but shake his head at his boyfriend’s antics and exaggeration.

“I never asked for a shining armour,” John returned evenly. “I asked if you would be interested in dressing like a man from the middle ages.”

“Still doesn’t make it any less fantastic,” Sherlock insisted. “Why would you even want me to dress like that?”

John sighed and shook his head. This wasn’t how he’d imagined this conversation going. The complete rejection was disheartening in a way John hadn’t been prepared for. He’d assumed that after a year of sleeping together Sherlock might have caught on to at least some of the things John liked. Apparently not.

“Never mind. Forget I ever asked,” he said, hoping against hope that Sherlock would just let him drop the issue now that he’d been rebuffed.

“No. I won’t forget it. Please explain,” Sherlock insisted and John sighed, no luck today.

“It’s stupid really. Nothing important. Just delete it. I won’t bring it up again.” John rose to his feet. No use in forcing the issue when Sherlock seemed so completely put off by the idea.

“You know I never delete what you say, John. Now tell me what this is about,” Sherlock pressed.

“It’s nothing important. Nothing you need to concern yourself with. It’s rather silly really...” John said. He had no illusions. This was getting out now one way or another. John wasn’t sure he wanted it to.

“You thought it important enough to bring it up,” Sherlock insisted and John felt his heart sink when Sherlock got up as well and walked over. He didn’t fight it when Sherlock pushed him back into the armchair, but he made no move to touch his boyfriend where he was straddling his lap. No, he never could resist when Sherlock was straddling his lap. Still, he had no intention of encouraging him. He just lowered his gaze and waited. Let Sherlock come to his own conclusion if he so desperately wanted to know.

“You thought it important enough to bring up today. There has been no case recently and your job is as boring as ever, so it’s not related to either of them. It has to be personal. You don’t meet my eyes and your pulse is elevated. You are agitated but trying to hide it. You are trying to deflect now but know it won’t work. Lowered gaze and defensive posture speak of unease and embarrassment. So it’s not only personal but most likely sexual in nature. Now you’re blushing. It’s creeping down your shoulders. I’m right then. Why didn’t you just say so?” Sherlock asked and John almost flinched away when one cool hand slipped down his shoulder, pressing into his arm firmly.

“You said you weren’t interested,” John said with a sigh, still uncomfortably tense. There was no way this was ending well, no matter how carefully Sherlock’s hands were sliding up and down his arms. He had heard the tone of voice Sherlock had used. It spoke of misunderstanding and incredulousness, a disbelief that anyone would willfully engage in role play when there was reality to enjoy.

“I said I didn’t indulge in fantasy. But you know I always indulge you,” Sherlock insisted. Under different circumstances John would have commented on how horribly sappy that sounded, but right now he just shrugged.

“I’m not interested if all you’ll be doing is indulge me. It’s only fun if we’re both enjoying it,” John said firmly. They’d had that conversation before. But John could practically hear the teeth in Sherlock’s smile and he realised there was no way around this.

“Don’t worry, John. I’ll definitely be enjoying myself if it in involves you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come now, John. Don’t fight it,” Sherlock breathed into John’s neck. The feeling of linen and leather under his hands was odd, a strange contrast to John’s usual wool and cotton. It wasn’t unwelcome though. Sherlock pressed closer and pushed John face first against the wall, his lips dancing over John’s neck. The loose fitted tunic left more than enough room for Sherlock to leave a line of bites down his shoulder.

“N-no sir,” John gasped out. There was no fight in him and Sherlock just chuckled against hot skin. He took his sweet time mouthing at the older man’s neck and bucking his hips against John’s ass. His lover was pliant underneath him and Sherlock thought that if that was what it got him to put on ridiculously comfortable linen pants and a colorful tunic, then he could go for this more often. Even though he still thought the whole lord and servant roleplay was a little ridiculous.

“Good. Stay just like that,” Sherlock cooed, hands sliding down John’s arms to wrap around his wrists. He easily pinned them in place and pushed one thigh between John’s. It was forcing him up onto his toes, legs spread to accommodate Sherlock, with no room to squirm away. They were both breathing faster and Sherlock could feel John’s pulse jumping in his wrists. He wasn’t sure what John was thinking about right now, just what fantasy he’d spun in his head to justify Sherlock pushing him against a wall to ravish him like that. But Sherlock wasn’t interested in it much. He was honest with himself. It would likely sound ridiculous to him. So instead of trying to figure out what John was imagining, Sherlock tried to make sure John lost the ability to think. Much easier on both of them.

“Yes, sir,” John breathed against the wall, legs tense and shoulders tight and Sherlock took a moment to appreciate John’s body control before he shattered it by deliberately sinking his teeth into one linen covered shoulder. He let go of John’s right wrist, trusting John to stay in position, and reached between them to the bottom of John’s pants. It was so convenient, he mused, that those pants didn’t have a zip or button. A leather belt was all holding the thing up and the tunic over it in place. A firm yank was more than enough to pull the pants out from beneath both and Sherlock was able to run his hand over John’s ass appreciatively.

If nothing else, Sherlock decided, he could at least get into this era’s lack of underwear.


End file.
